“So like a man,” Aunt Fannie scolded. “What about my nap?”
“I’ll get the popcorn,” Miriam said with a laugh. Their lighthearted teasing warmed her heart.
Aunt Fannie rose from her rocker to follow Miriam into the kitchen. “Are you missing Mose?” she teased. “Tomorrow it will be a week he’s been gone.”
Miriam kept her voice steady. “I was reading his letter again, and I wrote him back.”
“That’s so dear,” Aunt Fannie cooed. “I never had a chance to write William letters because we both still lived in Possum Valley. But that would have been so romantic.”
Miriam bit her tongue and didn’t say anything. Aunt Fannie would take her silence as embarrassment, which was sort of true. She was embarrassed over her lack of proper feelings for the man she was to marry. What she had written in the letter moments earlier sounded almost too personal. She didn’t have a right to say the words.
“I think we’re going to the hymn singing tonight,” Aunt Fannie announced. “You’ve inspired me, and I feel young again. I hadn’t expected to have a dating girl in the house so soon.”
Miriam managed a smile. After a moment of silence, she changed the subject.
“I’m thinking about leaving early for Possum Valley. Do you think that would be overly selfish?”
“Oh, that would be perfectly fine,” Aunt Fannie gushed. “You’re in love, and I’m sure the schoolboard will support this decision, unless…” Aunt Fannie’s face fell. “Does this mean Mose will steal you away from us before the term is over? Maybe you shouldn’t tempt him.”
Miriam felt the heat rush up her neck. “I’m not a temptation, Aunt Fannie.”
“Oh, but you are.” Aunt Fannie clucked her tongue. “I’m comforted that a man has finally arrived with the sense to see it. You’re being courted now by a minister, and perhaps even a bishop in a few weeks.” Aunt Fannie stopped short. “When is the ordination, by the way?”
“I don’t know.”
Aunt Fannie paused a moment. “It’s the week before the wedding, I think. That’s when most of the churches around Possum Valley have their communion time. Don’t tell me you didn’t think of that. You should be there, in attendance. What better way to show support for Mose?”
“But how will that look if I walk in and… I’m not even promised to him yet?”
Aunt Fannie was on her feet in an instant. “I’ll slip a little note in with your letter,” Aunt Fannie declared, “and it will be taken care of, and oh, Miriam, this is such a dream.”
“Is my popcorn about ready?” Uncle William roared from the living room. “All I hear is women’s voices chattering like magpies.”
“The nerve of the man,” Aunt Fannie muttered, but she hollered back, “Yes, dear. Coming up.”
“Maybe you should go calm him down,” Miriam teased.
Aunt Fannie chuckled. “That’s the spirit. I’m thinking Mose is already doing you a lot of gut. The two of you will raise a household of kinner for the Lord and bless the whole community in Wayne County. Isn’t that so wunderbah?”
Miriam didn’t answer as she turned the gas burner on the stove to high and poured in the popcorn. With the handle twirling in her hand, Miriam asked, “Is Tyler… Mr. Johnson… still talking to Uncle William?”
“Ach, yah.” Aunt Fannie sounded exasperated. “The two jaw together worse than women. In fact, Tyler asked if he could stop by this afternoon, so we’d better make extra popcorn, now that I think of it.”
Miriam stopped in midspin. “He’s coming? This afternoon?”
“Yep,” Aunt Fannie replied cheerfully. “You know, sometimes I think the man wants to join the community. Wouldn’t that be something if William and I had a hand in another of the Lord’s gut works? And you’ve played your part too, I think.”
“That would be wunderbah,” Miriam managed, “but I haven’t done much.” Miriam whirled the popcorn popper even faster.
“Oh, you have,” Aunt Fannie insisted. “I think Tyler sees in you the perfect picture of what’s so lacking out in his world. Not many women are like you, Miriam. Tyler finds it easy to speak with you, and that’s also wunderbah.”
If Aunt Fannie only knew, Miriam thought. The loud popping of kernels filled the kitchen, and Miriam emptied the popcorn into a large bowl. Aunt Fannie stepped closer to pour a stream of golden butter over the white kernels, followed by salt from the shaker.
“William will love that,” Aunt Fannie said as stray sunbeams played on the popcorn.
Outside an automobile drove into the lane, and Miriam breathed a quick prayer. “Help me, dear Lord, and protect me from temptation today.”
Chapter Seventeen
That evening after the hymn singing had let out, Tyler took the reins of Star with a firm grip. The faint sounds of the young people’s voices could be heard behind them as the buggy wheels lurched forward. Ahead of them, Miriam’s uncle and aunt’s buggy was leading the way home.
He should have let Miriam drive home, but he wanted a try at this—if he didn’t end up in a wreck.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Miriam asked. “It’s not like you’re used to this.”
“No, I want to try it.” With that, he took a firmer grip on the reins. “There are only so many things that can go wrong.”
“And what if you do all of them?” Miriam asked. “I think you’re just trying to show off for Uncle William.”
“Don’t worry,” Tyler teased. “I’ll save the princess tonight, even if I can’t keep her from the evil ogre.”
Miriam’s tone turned tense. “This is not a teasing matter, Tyler. You shouldn’t even be with me tonight, and you wouldn’t be if you hadn’t charmed my aunt and uncle and come up with that excuse about… well, I’m not even sure what it was now.”
“Learning to better know the community.” Tyler snuck a quick glance at her before he fixed his gaze back on the road. “You’re not really upset, are you? And everyone found my presence tonight perfectly explainable. I didn’t understand everything your uncle said, but they all know that I’m innocent and pure as the wind-driven snow.”
Miriam snorted. “That’s because you’ve never given them your freeing-the-princess speech.”
“That’s for your ears only,” he said. “You understand. They don’t.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” Miriam said. “I don’t understand your coming this afternoon, your staying around, your charming my uncle and aunt, or your finagling a ride with me in my buggy from an Amish hymn singing. What exactly do you think this will accomplish?”
“I have my hopes.” Tyler gave Miriam a wicked grin. “I want the best for you.”
He really did, Tyler reminded himself. His conscience still pricked him a little, but this was all for the best. He couldn’t see this woman married off into who knew what without an effort on his part to stop her. And he had his own reasons for his actions tonight.
“You seem to think this is funny, but it’s not,” Miriam said. “None of this is funny. You think it’s easy—our life, the way we live, the years I’ve put into building my reputation. If you wanted the best for me, you wouldn’t put me in a situation where I have to explain this to…” Miriam stopped and let the words hang.
“The ogre, perhaps?” Tyler teased.
“He’s not an ogre, Tyler. Whatever that means. He’s a man who wants me as his frau.” Her tone turned wistful. “Why do you fault me for wanting the love of home and family, and a…” Her voice caught. “… a man in my house?”
Tyler didn’t respond at once. Miriam’s sincerity was obvious, and he was touched, so he proceeded with caution. “That’s admirable, Miriam. I’m not saying it isn’t, but surely you don’t have to settle for the kind of situation that has been described to me. This is an older man, and a little harsh, I think. He takes you for granted. He shows up suddenly and expects that all the questions are his to ask. If I measure him correctly, he never seriously thought you’d turn him d
own. Am I right?”
Miriam’s silence was answer enough.
“So tell me why I shouldn’t object to such a one-sided arrangement?”
Her answer was soft. “Because love doesn’t always come like you think it does, Tyler. You come from the world where people take up and throw away each other on a weekly basis. That’s not how we are. When we pledge our hearts to each other, the Lord gives us feelings… in His time. It’s better to have feelings that come slowly than ones that last only a week.”
Tyler took a deep breath. Miriam’s words stung. There was no question about that. His love affairs lasted for more than a week—usually. His with Hilda had. She’d still be there when he arrived back in Oklahoma City—if he wanted to resume the relationship. But it wasn’t for the sake of any feelings that he had for Hilda. Not in the way Miriam meant the term. He was certain of that.
“Isn’t this true?” Miriam probed gently.
“I won’t argue the point,” Tyler allowed. “But this still isn’t right.”
Miriam hurried on. “So I’m thinking that after tonight we won’t be seeing you again. You’ll leave me alone?”
Tyler took a deep breath and countered the question with one of his own. “What if both you and I have these feelings?” Tyler clutched the reins again. Driving a horse wasn’t easy. He focused on the road. Miriam half turned to face him, her mouth open. He had her attention at least.
“What if you and I have feelings for each other before you get them for this… what shall we call him? You don’t like ogre. How about the mystery man? Or the shadow perhaps?” Tyler tried to chuckle, but Miriam’s expression stopped him.
“Tyler, you mustn’t say such things. You and me? Tyler, you’re not of us. Such feelings are forbidden.”
“But they’re there, forbidden or not. This is true… isn’t it?”
He pulled back on the reins for a stop sign as the lights from Miriam’s uncle and aunt’s buggy pulled away. The soft glow of their headlamps illuminated a cattle lane by the side of the road. Tyler waited at the sign for a moment, and Miriam didn’t protest. When Tyler let out the reins, he turned into the lane and bounced to a stop.
“My uncle and aunt will wonder why we stopped,” Miriam whispered.
Guilt gripped Tyler. Why did he insist on disturbing her world? He could wreck her life, he knew. And yet…
“I’ll tell your uncle I wanted to enjoy the moonlight from a buggy.” Tyler stuck to a lighthearted tone.
“There is no moonlight.”
Tyler didn’t answer but took her hand in his. Miriam trembled under his touch.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said.
“Please, Tyler,” she whispered. “We shouldn’t do this.”
Tyler looked toward Miriam’s face. The soft lamplight revealed only the faintest of outlines. She was beautiful, he told himself. Not beautiful like Hilda or the other girls he had known. Somehow this beauty was deeper, yet it shone through in her face. It was no trick of the shadows.
“We need to go.” Miriam’s voice was insistent. “This can’t be, Tyler. Our hearts are not to be trusted. You cannot be what I am, and I cannot be what you are.”
“Are you sure? I haven’t even tried yet.”
“This is beyond ridiculous, Tyler, and you know it.” Miriam pulled her hand out of his.
“Stranger things have happened,” he said, seeking her hand again. This time Miriam didn’t pull away. “Maybe this is from the Lord, as your folks in the community might say. Did you ever consider that possibility?”
“No. Such things don’t happen in our world.”
Miriam pulled her hand away again, and Tyler sighed. “Maybe you’re right. I do have a history with girls, and not a good history, I have to admit.”
Miriam didn’t move or show a shocked expression. At least not that he could tell. Tyler began again. “You could make a decent man out of me.”
Miriam turned away. “You speak as the world and not as those who follow what is right. A woman is supposed to obey her husband, not change him. We must go, Tyler. This cannot go on.”
Tyler waited as thoughts raced through his mind. She was a brick wall, and one not torn down easily. Somehow he must win this girl’s heart. But how?
“Tyler, please?” Miriam begged.
He let out the reins, and the horse seemed to find his own way back to the road. Silence settled over them, broken only by the whirl of the buggy wheels and the steady beat of the horse’s hooves on the pavement. This was Miriam’s life, and he was privileged to be on the inside even for a moment, Tyler told himself. A feeling of sadness crept over him, and Miriam felt the same, he was sure. So why must they fast approach the moment when they would part tonight? His senses screamed a protest, but words would fail to persuade her. He was sure of that.
Miriam’s fingers brushed his arm in the darkness. “Thank you, Tyler, for stopping such talk.”
He managed a laugh. “I’m not an ogre; that’s why.”
“And neither is Mose.” She seemed to smile up at him. “You just don’t understand him.”
The touch of her hand was gone. Tyler could make out the Bylers’s homestead in front of them and pulled back on the reins to turn into the lane. A light was on in the house, but the barn was dark. The buggy they had followed earlier sat empty in the barnyard. Miriam pulled in a sharp breath, and Tyler hurried to reassure her. “I’ll come in and explain. Okay?”
They climbed out and unhitched in the light of the headlamps. Tyler fumbled with the tugs and tried to follow Miriam’s lead. When the horse blocked the view, he simply guessed. Miriam stuck her head around the horse’s bridle and nodded her approval.
“Hold the buggy shafts,” Miriam told him, as she led the horse forward.
Miriam disappeared into the barn, and he waited. A small beam bounced against the barn window, so, he figured her uncle must keep flashlights hung on the inside wall. His guess proved correct when Miriam reappeared and paused to leave an object behind her.
After Miriam returned, Tyler led the way toward the house. He reached for her hand, and Miriam didn’t resist, but her fingers slipped from his as they approached the front door. Tyler stepped back to allow Miriam in first. He noticed that she tried to hide her flushed face behind her hand.
William’s voice greeted them from his rocker. “There they are. I was ready to come looking for the two of you.”
“We’re back,” Miriam said, but she kept her head down.
“I was driving,” Tyler offered. “And I had to stop and enjoy the moment. It’s not every evening that I get to ride home with a beautiful Amish woman.”
Miriam fled toward the kitchen as Uncle William chuckled. “I thought I saw you pull over. I hope you were properly impressed. There’s nothing quite like a buggy ride after dark.”
“That’s what I found out,” Tyler replied as he took a seat on the couch.
“I asked around some more tonight,” William said, glacing toward the kitchen doorway and lowering his voice. “No one so far received any funds from the companies you mentioned. But I’ll have to ask some more. And your presence does make the questions easier—people think you’re sympathetic to the community.”
Tyler allowed a smile to fill his face. “That’s what I had hoped, so I might hang around a little longer if you don’t mind. And I do like the community. It’s quite different from what I’m used to.”
“I suppose you’re looking for some kind of fraud with your questions?” William gave Tyler a sharp glance. “I’ll warn you, though, not to involve the Amish in any way. I hope that’s understood. I’m only doing this as a favor to you. You did write a decent article about the community, so I’m trusting you to do only what’s right and proper.”
“Understood,” Tyler agreed as Aunt Fannie appeared in the doorway with plates of cookies and lemon bars. Miriam followed close behind with glasses of milk.
Fannie beamed at him. “Hungry, are we?”
Tyle
r didn’t hesitate. “I’m always hungry. But I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Amish tradition after the hymn singing,” Fannie pronounced.
“Or at least for dating couples,” William laughed. “I guess there’s nothing wrong with memories of the past.”
“To Amish traditions then.” Tyler took a piece of lemon bar with a broad grin on his face. “This looks awfully good, Mrs. Byler. Thank you so much.”
Fannie waved away the praise. “It’s what we do. I’m glad you enjoyed the evening and the hymn singing.”
“Oh, very much,” Tyler assured her.
Miriam set down her items and fled back to the kitchen. She would have to come out soon. Too much time away would draw attention.
Tyler sat back and waited as the memory of her fingers in his hand as they walked toward the house lingered. She had not objected, Tyler reminded himself. He would not forget that moment or the rest of this evening anytime soon.
Chapter Eighteen
The following Sunday morning, Mose Stoll took his seat in the circle of chairs set up in Deacon Yoder’s upstairs bedroom. Below them the congregation’s voices rose and fell as they sang the familiar hymns. Mose moved his chair a few inches and cleared his throat, but he didn’t speak. A visiting bishop, Bishop Miller, was in charge this morning. They had asked him to lead the local bishop’s ordination in two weeks, and with his responsibilities heavy on his shoulders, Bishop Miller would expect a full account of Mose’s recent trip to Oklahoma. As a contender for the new bishop’s position, his quest for a frau would be subjected to questions, but he was ready. Miriam had passed every test he had put her through. She also had a quiet, natural beauty, but he wouldn’t mention this to his fellow ministers. Beauty of the heart was the only matter they would inquire after.
Mose cleared his throat again and waited. Why he was nervous, he couldn’t imagine. Bishop Miller was an older man and wouldn’t subject him to a harsh interrogation. Minister Kemp and Deacon Yoder were another matter. They would, but they had a right to. If he became the bishop they would have to submit to his authority. This would go the hardest for Minister Kemp because he was the oldest of the three. But in spiritual matters the bishop always led out, regardless of his age.
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